The Gift
by poorlittlerichgirl91
Summary: Rose's thoughts in the water. He had died for her; she would live for him.


**Author's Note: This one-shot began as the first chapter to a new fic I'm currently writing wherein Jack and Rose both get saved from the water and begin their life in New York City. I started writing when I was super depressed and before I knew it, I was channelling my own feelings of grief and despair and hopelessness into Rose's thoughts. About half way through, I realised that Jack surviving would actually do a disservice to the writing in this specific piece, so I went against my strict #JackLives policy and did the unthinkable...**

* * *

"Where to Miss?"

"To the stars."

_The stars. We could be safe there_, Rose thought to herself as she lay on the driftwood, the bitter Atlantic wind burning her flesh. Images of the night cycled through her mind like moving images on a box camera. She could still feel the warmth of his body sliding her down underneath him; the hazy intensity of his kisses, the tender but roughened caress of his artist's hands. She closed her eyes and wished, _willed_ herself back there – _panting gently in the sweltering heat of the boiler room as Jack kissed the sweat trickling down her neck_ \- just a second in that moment was all she would need; a far cry from now, as she lay floating in the freezing depths. Had all of that really happened only a few hours prior? It seemed like a lifetime ago now; a completely different world: one in which Titanic belonged above the surface, in all her regal splendour and former opulence – safe from human greed, hubris, and icebergs – not plunging to the bottom of the North Atlantic Ocean, doomed to spend an eternity in the abyss.

"Come Josephine in my flying machine going up she goes, up she goes..."

Rose sang faintly, watching the moonless heavens above, silently praying for a chance – for a future – just like the other fifteen hundred souls had done before her that night. She noticed the deafening silence - the unanswered pleas of so many - surrounding them like a blanket of darkness, and she was sure she felt death's frozen hand on her shoulder, coming for her next. Jack's hand grasping hers tightly was the only thing she could feel, as if he was her only source of life, of light – which in a way, he was - and she squeezed their interlaced fingertips with all her might to keep herself from slipping away.

* * *

Rose felt the light before she saw it.

A distant glow crept onto one side of her face, disrupting the pitch black canvas of ocean and sky that enveloped her and her love. The light moved in its trajectory, getting brighter and brighter, before illuminating her whole face as she craned her head wearily to look directly at its source. It was blinding, burning the retinas she'd prepared to never know light again, and then—

_A voice_.

She wasn't sure it was even human at first; it seemed so far away, so muffled and obscured by the disorientation that was starting to take hold. She lay there in a daze, watching as the light began to pass her by - the shadows of that all-consuming darkness returning in its place. It was not until the brightness continued out of her peripheral vision and illuminated the water beneath it that she saw the flashlight, the slow movement of oars rowing, and—

_A boat_.

Her eyes widened, seeing now that the voice belonged to an officer calling out, searching for survivors. Her ragged breathing started to increase as she realised: this was it; this was their chance, their absolution.

"Jack?" her voice was barely audible.

She tugged on his frozen hand which was still tightly grasping hers. The future flashed in her mind: _their_ future. They would get out of here after all, they were going to have a life full of adventure and purpose; travelling, exploring, living out of suitcases like artists in Europe – maybe she would even become an actress — there was, for the first time in Rose's life, a horizon of endless possibility: and it was here, awaiting them, metres away, in that lifeboat.

"Jack, there's a boat."

She realised she would need to use more strength to physically wake him when he didn't stir. As she turned her body, absentmindedly she wondered if he would be this much trouble to wake in the mornings once they started living together. A small smile crept upon her face as she glanced at him, keeping a steady eye on the boat which was drifting away. She lifted her free hand to nudge his shoulder, the material of his shirt still drenched and sticking to the muscles that lay underneath.

"Jack? Jack?"

When he still didn't respond, she furrowed her brows and tutted in mock annoyance. Louder still, she shook his wrist with such force that the handcuffs rattled against the driftwood. The boat wouldn't be in the vicinity much longer and they needed to leave. Now.

"Jack!"

Why wasn't he waking up?

Confused, Rose studied his face a while longer - so angelic, so peaceful, so still – She paused.

The thought crept into her mind so subtly, but with the force of a thousand oceans, rising up to drown her beneath a tidal wave of devastating anguish. **No**. It wasn't possible. They had overcome so much to be together – and yet at the same time they had barely began. There were so many conversations they hadn't had; so many things to learn, experiences to enjoy, memories to make. They were still new to each other: this was the start, not the end. Not yet.

_Not this night. Not like this._

Rose drifted back in her mind to the safety and happiness of their future: eighty years from now, still together and surrounded by family, regaling to their grandchildren the story of how they met; defying social barriers and certain death and falling in love on the Ship of Dreams. God would never be so cruel as to let them find each other, go through all they had, only to tear them apart so soon... would he? It wouldn't be fair, it wouldn't make sense.

_It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it._

"There's a boat, Jack."

She pleaded in her mind, willing him to wake up, to re-animate with some anecdote about surviving water colder than this in Chippewa Falls. She noticed tiny specks of icicles on his eyelashes, sealing shut those soul-searching eyes that had been closed for entirely too long. The thought of never looking into them again made every inch of her body ache with excruciating sadness, a sadness that only came with inevitably, realisation, and resignation. As tears flooded her eyes, she stopped shaking his hand awake and instead, caressed it gently.

"Oh, Jack."

She cried freely, closing her eyes and pushing her forehead against his - wanting to feel close to him for the last time - her tears spilling onto their tightly clasped hands. She cried for him, for the love she had lost almost as soon as she had found; for the life they would never know, for the future they would never have.

Their memories flashed through her mind; the first time she laid eyes on him from across the deck, irritated yet _intrigued_ by the uncouth, striking man who made no effort to restrain his interest; she'd felt his eyes on her, _seeing_ her when nobody else did; and she had tried to tear her eyes away, but she too had felt that magnetism pulling them towards each other – physical bodies separated by social classes: two souls sharing a moment curated by fate, by destiny, by the beyond. _Love at first sight,_ she knew now. Their first meeting, beneath an ocean of stars: he'd saved her life from the start; physically and metaphorically, pulling her back over the railing and inspiring her with his infectious zest for life and philosophy of seizing each day. She saw him at the clock, the aroma of sandalwood and charcoal overtaking her senses as he pulled her close and danced with her; as he broke down her defences one by one and showed her what it was like to feel alive again. Passion flowed through everything he did - in his voice, in his touch - Rose couldn't bear to think about their kisses or their lovemaking; he was intense yet so gentle, every touch had been made with intent, with such uncompromising love.

She felt the agony envelop her and thought how easy it would be to just die here with him. He had saved her in every way possible, breaking the iron bars on her gilded cage and setting her free, teaching her to fly and soaring with her to the stars. There was still so much left to teach her - she couldn't do it without him; without the unending source of strength and courage that only he and he alone inspired in her. All hope left her body, the weakness taking over as she wished for death to come soon. It seemed futile to even try.

_"Promise me that you'll survive. No matter what happens. No matter how hopeless."_

His words echoed in her head. Words, she realised now, that had been his dying wish.

Could she let that sacrifice – the most sacred, selfless act of pure love – be in vain? Jack had given his life: his beautiful, exciting, and remarkable life for her. Could she really find it within herself to let such a precious and ineffable gift go to waste? She loved him so much, but had she really enough strength to live for the two of them? Alone?

She stilled for a moment. What would Jack want her to do? Her eyes shot open instantly, knowing the answer, and realising her decision had already been made.

_He had died for her. She would live for him._

"Come back."

Suddenly, the will to live – to dedicate a life to Jack's spirit and legacy – filled her with deep determination. After all he had done for her, it would only do to honour him every day of her long and full life. He would live on in her heart, in her soul, in her memories and dreams.

"Come back! Come back!" she called in vain, her voice too weak to be heard. The lifeboat was almost invisible to her now; the light of the torch glowing like a distant star, impossibly far away. Rose struggled to move, realising her hand was frozen to Jack's.

There was only one thing she could do.

She gently unclasped their hands, severing the broken ice that had started to gather.

"I'll never let go. I promise." She spoke with conviction, placing a firm kiss on his hand – _Oh god, his hands. Hands that would never draw or touch or hold her again_ – and watched as her saviour slipped into the blackness of an ocean that had claimed her hopes and dreams. His eyes closed in eternal slumber, she saw in her mind his sparkling blue eyes and lopsided grin. She cried gently as the man she loved disappeared beneath the surface, watching him descend like a heavenly spirit returning to some immaterial plane; back to the ship to which she owed so much.

Rose stayed until he was no longer visible, before eventually tearing her eyes away and letting out a pained sob. He was gone. Jack was gone. She moved slowly - her heart, as though it was anchored to him, weighing her down – every inch further away more painful than the last.

She reached the end of the wood, rolling off in one swift motion and back into the freezing water; searing pain engulfing her body once more, the scorching cold no different to the flames of Hell. She swam to a nearby officer and scrambled to grab the whistle from his lifeless mouth, her hands numb and shaking. She blew the whistle as if she was taking her last breath - every fibre in her being fighting for survival, for Jack – and kept on blowing with all her might, until she saw the faint light growing brighter and heard the distant voice getting louder.

She felt strong arms lift her from the water and lay her gently in the lifeboat, the warmth of multiple blankets immediately covering her frail body. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the vast, endless sky; much like the deep and timeless ocean, shrinking her beneath it.

She was alone in the universe.


End file.
